


Daybreak Sonata

by CharliP1989



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharliP1989/pseuds/CharliP1989
Summary: Originally posted to my tumblr ryjo-92.  John returns from an emergency shift to find his fiance playing a song he hadn't heard since his mother passed.
Relationships: John Laurens/Original Female Character(s), John Laurens/Reader, john laurens/you
Kudos: 7





	Daybreak Sonata

I rolled over to cuddle into my fiancé but was met with a cold pillow. Cracking one eye open, I saw 4:56 glare back at me. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I searched the room for my fiancé.

“John?” I whisper yelled. “John Laurens where are you!”

Getting no response, I grabbed one of his sweatshirts and tugged it on before getting out of bed and tiptoeing downstairs. I searched the kitchen, the living room, and his office and came up with nothing. Flicking the kettle on, I saw a note taped to the fridge.

_Good Morning Darling, it’s currently 3 am and I got called in to the hospital. Hopefully I won’t be gone long. I’ll call when I can. I love you. J_

Smiling to myself, I folded the note and tucked it in the hoodie’s pocket. I kept every note John has ever written me. One because he has beautiful handwriting and two because handwritten notes are a lost art; no one writes them anymore.

Making a cup of tea and some toast, I grabbed a tray and carried it upstairs to the music room. Leaving the door open a crack, I put my tray down and lifted the lid to my piano and sat down. Most people who have pianos have them on their main floors, where mine originally was. However, after a spill down the stairs to play piano at 2am when I couldn’t sleep resorted in John making the executive decision to move the music room upstairs and his office downstairs.

Unfolding the sheet music, I obnoxiously cracked my fingers and began to play. The piece, Mozart’s _Rondo alla Turca,_ was one of my favorites. It was meant to be played loud, and what better time to play it when you’re home alone at five in the morning!

Taking a break, I finished my breakfast and stood from the bench. I walked over to the desk to check my phone; John hadn’t called yet. John was an attending physician in the Emergency Room of the local children’s hospital. He was an incredible doctor. He had a gift; being able to work under pressure but keep it light for the kid he was treating. I sent him a quick text to check in before putting my phone back on the desk.

Realizing I forgot to get new sheet music, I looked through the shelves to find something new to play. Flicking through a folder, an old piece fell gently to the floor. Picking it up, I brought it to the piano and began to play.

The song was slow, almost like a lullaby. Love and warmth poured out of the piece as I kept playing. I had never heard or felt anything like it before. 

I heard our bedroom door creak open and I froze. How long had John been home? Was this song not supposed to be played?

“John?” I called, turning around on the piano bench.

Hearing no reply, I got up and walked to our room. I found John sitting on our bed, still wearing his scrubs. His hair was out of his trademark ponytail and the curls fell gently down his shoulders. His head was down, and his shoulders gently shook in quiet sobs.

I rushed in and sat next to him, gently rubbing his back. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He wiped his cheeks and lifted his head, looking at me with sad eyes. “That song you were playing,”

I cringed. “Was it bad? I’ve never seen it before, it fell out of a folder.”

“No, it wasn’t bad. It, um, my mom wrote that song. She wrote it for me the year she died. She was teaching me to play it the day before the accident. I haven’t heard it since I was twelve.”

I gasped, hugging him tight,” “oh John, I’m so sorry! I had no idea.”

He hugged me back, “It’s not your fault Y/N. It was nice to hear, especially after the shift I just had.”

I kissed him gently. “You wanna talk about it?” I asked. John found it easier to talk to me about a rough shift than the department shrink.

John rested his forehead on my shoulder and sighed, “school bus with the basketball team and a few fans was on their way back from an away game. Two drunk drivers were street racing. One hit the bus head on, the other sped away. The bus flipped on to its side. Four kids died. One begged me to let them live and there was nothing I could do, Y/N. There’s always something I can do!”

I rocked him slowly back and forth, wiping tears from my own cheeks. “I’m so sorry, John. I’m sorry you couldn’t save them, but I know you did everything you could. I know you being with them comforted them as they passed,”

I felt him nod against my neck.

“And as for that song, it clearly fell out of the folder for a reason. Maybe your mom’s around, like she knew you needed to hear it.”

John lifted his head, watery eyes looking back at me. “You’re probably right. I’m just having an incredibly shitty start to my rotation off.”

I kissed his forehead. “Go shower and get changed, I’ll turn your phone off and meet you in the backyard.”

I grabbed a few blankets and pillows and went out to the yard. I laid the them down in the hammock and filled a cooler with drinks and some snacks.

John joined me shortly after, wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. He left his hair down in wet curls. 

“What’s all this?” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me.

I cuddled close, pressing a kiss on his chest. “A cuddle puddle. Let’s spend your first official day off outside away from our phones. The breeze is supposed to be up, so we’ll constantly sway, and I brought some snacks and an extra blanket to block out the light,”

“God, I love you, Y/N. You always know what I need.” He smiled, taking off his sandals and laying in the hammock. Once he was comfortable, I climbed in, laying my head on his chest and draping my leg over his hip.

We swayed quietly in the breeze, cuddling close under the blankets. The softness of his breathing and the beating of his heart began to lull me to sleep.

“I love you too. Sweet dreams, Johnny.”

As the sun crested over the trees and the day broke, the quiet melody of his mom’s sonata carried through in the breeze, letting us know we were always watched and cared for.


End file.
